Monday, February 23, 2009

More than putting another man on the moon, more than a New Year’s resolution of yogurt and yoga, we need the opportunity to dancewith really exquisite strangers. A slow dancebetween the couch and dinning room table, at the endof the party, while the person we love has gone to bring the car aroundbecause it’s begun to rain and would break their heartif any part of us got wet. A slow danceto bring the evening home, to knock it out of the park. Two peoplerocking back and forth like a buoy. Nothing extravagant.A little music. An empty bottle of whiskey.It’s a little like cheating. Your head restingon his shoulder, your breath moving up his neck.Your hands along her spine. Her hips unfolding like a cotton napkin and you begin to think about how all the stars in the sky are dead. The my bodyis talking to your body slow dance. The Unchained Melody, Stairway to Heaven, power-cord slow dance. All my lifeI’ve made mistakes. Small and cruel. I made my plans.I never arrived. I ate my food. I drank my wine.The slow dance doesn’t care. It’s all kindness like childrenbefore they turn four. Like being held in the armsof my brother. The slow dance of siblings. Two men in the middle of the room. When I dance with him, one of my great loves, he is absolutely human, and when he turns to dip meor I step on his foot because we are both leading, I know that one of us will die first and the other will suffer.The slow dance of what’s to comeand the slow dance of insomnia pouring across the floor like bath water. When the woman I’m sleeping withstands naked in the bathroom, brushing her teeth, the slow dance of ritual is being spit into the sink. There is no one to save us because there is no need to be saved.I’ve hurt you. I’ve loved you. I’ve mowedthe front yard. When the stranger wearing a shear white dresscovered in a million beadscomes toward me like an over-sexed chandelier suddenly come to life, I take her hand in mine. I spin her outand bring her in. This is the almond grove in the dark slow dance. It is what we should be doing right now. Scrappingfor joy. The haiku and honey. The orange and orangutang slow dance.